His Voices
by Myrrat-Sade
Summary: His four voices. They guided his actions like angels and devils. These voices got him through the worst of his nights. How will they guide him when Lily "drunk dials" him out of nowhere?


**Standard disclaimer: Of course I don't own any of this; I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox!**

It was a chill autumn night, late in October, and a cold wind rustled the leaves, tearing them from a nearby tree and sweeping them, rattling, along the pavement. Severus was settled in and warm, reading in front of a fire, with his feet propped up on a stack of books he'd charmed to stay put. Things had been quiet of late; no major battles, nothing requiring his expertise. He did as his master instructed and stayed close to this flat that he rented from a squib of questionable moral standing, who knew better than to talk about who came and went. Severus paid dearly for that privacy, but the Dark Lord provided (from Lucius Malfoy's coffers) what he needed, even if not actual wealth.

When the glowing shape had stumbled in, he was on his feet in an instant, his wand out and pointed at the strange apparition that swayed as if blown by the wind. "Protect yourself from that!" commanded a voice in his head. "Observe it! Stifle it! Annihilate it!" chimed others.

His voices. They guided his actions like angels and devils. Not individual personalities, just his conscience divided. There was a voice of logic and reason which provided good guidance in many matters, and one of sentiment that had gotten him into trouble a few times. One was the voice of heroic action; he rarely listened to it, but sometimes he took its advice. And then there was the voice he usually listened to, the one that protected him and schemed and took the long view. These voices got him through the worst of his trials, and sometimes, like now, they all agreed: whatever else this glowing apparition was, it might be a threat.

"Sev'rus," the shape slurred. "I need you, pleash come find me."

Severus could recognize a Patronus when he saw one, but this was different. They didn't usually talk, he knew, and this one was malformed and vague. But the voice…

The voice issuing from the Patronus thing was Lily's.

His inner voices warred in his head, commanding him to understand and control whatever this was, but one gasped, "Lily?"

"Lily," Severus echoed. "What? I don't understand. Where are you?" She hadn't spoken to him in years.

"This is a trap," warned a voice in his head.

"Muggle pub, near Spin's End," muttered the glowing form, its head swirling a bit. "You know, that pla'sh where your fath..." the voice trailed off with a hiccup and a giggle. "Hurry up PLEASH..." it slurred. The form swayed, seemed to go down on a knee and right itself, and then vanished.

He certainly knew the place where his father had spent most of his time, drinking and plotting his useless, lame-brained schemes.

His thoughts were wild. "Lily wants to see you!" shrieked a voice in his head, but another cautioned, "Think about this. Why now, and why that bar, and what was that Patronus doing talking, and why is she drunk," and a thousand other questions, trying to logic out the possibilities and understand it. "Never mind," another thought chimed, "Wash your face and put on a nice coat, not _too_ nice. Better dress down going into that muggle territory, but go now, go now, go now! Into the breach!"

"Careful, now" came the final voice, almost always the last to speak, almost always the one he heeded. Severus knew what he was doing, and he would move carefully, with deliberation.

He washed his face and flicked off a day's growth of beard - not much, but it was rough - with a muttered spell. Heeding his voices, he put on a sweater and a black wool pea coat that wouldn't seem too out of place in that pub - not his nicest, no matter that he'd like to look perfect for Lily. The place he was going was a dive, in a hard part of town.

He shoved a sobering potion into his pocket - a small one at first, but on second thought, that Patronus was very wobbly so he grabbed a larger bottle - and Appatated to the alley nearest the pub, where his sudden appearance would be hidden under the cover of dark. Shoving his hands in his pockets against the cold, he hurried up the alley toward the bar and, he hoped and almost dreaded, the woman he loved, the woman who had spurned him through no fault but his own.

His stomach was full of roiling snakes, and one of the voices was laughing at him. "We always _knew_ you were a hero," it mocked.

He passed by the darkened shops. Many were not just closed for the night but stood empty. He strode past the faded K6, one of those ubiquitous red phone booths that dotted muggle England. As a child, he remembered, he would hide in the box sometimes, peering through the glass windows into the pub to determine how drunk Tobias was before he'd enter the bar to collect the old fool. The windowed door was gone, now, and the interior gaped, cave-dark, like a toothless mouth. Cokeworth had fallen even further in the years since he'd lived here, in the wake of whatever stupidity the new muggle Prime Minister was up to now. He was glad he didn't have to worry about _that_ world anymore, that his life took him away from all of that, if not from all the darkness.

Despite the blackness of the night outside, the bar's interior was murky, and it took his eyes some moments to adjust. He flashed back to so many nights, walking into this room in search of his father. It was always painful – emotionally with his mother pleading with him to just find Tobias, please, and bring him home, and physically with his father's answering ear-boxing, or, later, a fist. He could still hear the roar of his father's friends, those not already dragged home by angry wives, laughing as one of them - usually Severus - fell to the floor. An inner voice might remind him that he was young and quick and could evade the swing easily enough, could even hit back, but another quailed in fear. But the smarter and calculating voices always reminded him to just take the hit. It made it slightly less likely that Tobias would attack either him or his mother when he got home.

But now he peered through the murk, looking for a prettier vision.

He spotted her by her hair. Her back to him, she was slumped at the bar, waving her hand in the air like she was trying to make an important point. The barman's face was lit by the glow of the work lights behind the bar. Severus could see that the man had a concerned look on his face, looking at her, and nodding. Whatever her point was, his demeanor seemed to suggest, he agreed with all his being and would keep on agreeing as long as needed.

"... just don't think they realize how dangerous he is!" she concluded, as Severus stepped up behind Lily.

The barman flashed him a warning look. "I've already sent three men away for botherin' this young lady, and I'll send you away too," he snapped. Lily swiveled, swaying on her stool, and her face lit up.

"No, no, no, this is the man I was telling you about," she slurred, hand flapping dismissively at the barman. "Sev'rus! My heeero," she purred, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

Arms pinned at his sides, jaw hanging open, he could only gape at the bartender, who looked relieved now.

In his head, all the voices groaned simultaneously.

He tried to get her away from there. He didn't know where she and James lived, but he thought she would tell him and he'd sober her up, deposit her at the door, and leave before anyone could see him. Just being with her was dangerous to them both. None of his associates would find them here, he thought, but you just never knew. "They know this is your old neighborhood," one voice appraised coolly. "If they were to look for you, this is one place they'd come." Another scoffed, "For what? There's nothing going on that needs your attention, unless Bellatrix goes off her rocker again, and it's early tonight for that."

Lily was having none of it, though. She talked happily to the bartender about various things, tossing back another glass of something warm and brown. Why was this fool man still serving her?

It was only a few minutes before Severus' heart sank. She'd told the man far too much about magic and wizards. It was clear that he thought it was mostly drunk talk, or that she was a little touched in the head, but he wasn't sure.

Then she announced, "I gotta pee," none too delicately, and slithered off the stool, onto the floor in a heap. She flicked her skirt down over the flash of pale under-things just as Severus caught a glimpse of them. Lily grinned at him before climbing up unsteadily, laughing, and tottering off. "White?" a voice inside wondered, but as soon as she was gone, the barkeep rounded on him.

"How did you know to come find her?" he demanded. "She never used no phone, 'cos the one out there is broke." He nodded toward a door, indicating the old phone kiosk Severus had seen on his way in. "And the first man what talked to her, she said something and he just slammed against that wall over there." The fool drunk woman had used a spell in a muggle bar. This was _terrible_. "You her husband? She's wearing a ring, but I thought she said his name was James, not... Steven?"

"Think fast," said an inner voice. "Fix it fix it fix it!" shrilled another. "Fix him," hissed the last voice.

"She left word with a friend where she'd be tonight," Severus said cooly, and then cast Imperio on the barkeep.

As soon as Lily came back from the loo, Severus had her arm. "We're going now," he informed her.

"But I'm not..." she started, but the barman had smiled and said, "Closing time, miss," just as Severus had suggested he say. "Drinks on the house. Goodnight, miss." Smiling, he turned away, not even seeing Severus. The Imperius Curse could be used for far more nefarious purposes than when you didn't have a pocketful of muggle money to pay off your beloved former best friend's enormous liquor bill, but in this, too, it could be useful. Severus didn't feel bad; the man had stopped other men from taking advantage of her, but he'd also given her too much liquor and besides, no one called him "Steven," and got away with it.

Lily blinked in confusion, trying to work out why the barman had changed his behavior. Suddenly, she seemed to see Severus for the first time, and a surly look crept across her face.

"Sev'rus," she said, voice still unsteady, but colder now, "You called me a _mudblood_ and I'm still _mad_ at you." She actually stamped her foot when she said it.

Forgetting the barman, Severus saw in horror that Lily was pulling her wand out of her sleeve. "Think fast!" screamed a voice in his head and he had her wrapped in his arms, hustling her outside.

This is why he never drank more than one glass of wine or a couple of fingers of whiskey at one time. Drunk people were as unstable as a Blast-Ended Skrewt, and usually meaner than a Manticore.

He was just planning to Side-Along Apparate back to his flat with her right then and there, but of course, two policemen - who were NEVER in Cokeworth when you were being beaten by your drunk unstable father - would have to be coming up the street right at that moment.

Wrangling her into the phone booth - she'd suddenly become a rather dangerous bundle of flailing, punching arms and legs, and her hair was everywhere - he hissed at her. "Stop struggling and pretend like you're kissing me," he snapped.

She laughed, apparently forgetting she was ready to curse him moments earlier and had just punched him in the shoulder not 10 seconds ago, and then she did.

Not pretend, that is - she kissed him, hard and passionately.

"Any other time," giggled a voice in his head, "and you'd be over the moon." For just a second, he _was_ over the moon. But mindful of the cops, he dragged himself back to reality, and tried to hold her off without appearing to be doing so. Maybe the policemen would walk past and ignore them, and he could finally get that sobering potion into her.

"Right, what's all this then," said a stern voice, banging on the outside of the booth. "Do they _really_ always have to say that," one of the voices wondered. "Uncreative gits."

"Go 'way," slurred Lily, squinting at the cop. "Can't you see we're just kissing," as Severus groaned inwardly.

"Sorry sir," Severus tried to sound as contrite as he possibly could, never an easy thing for him, especially when talking to muggles. "Just trying to get her home. She's drunk. Lily, let's go now."

"Lily EVANS?" said the cop, shining a torch in their faces.

Lily reared back like a vampire from the light, hissing.

"I'd recognize that hair and those eyes anywhere. Went to school together, we did," the cop said over his shoulder to the other policeman. "Jerome Fisher. Sat right behind you, didn't I. What happened to you? You disappeared. Heard you went to some other school..." he trailed off and glanced at Severus, a sneer coming over his face. "Still hanging out with that Snape kid, I see. Time hasn't improved your face or your stringy hair. You look like a girl, Snape. Not that any girl could be so ugly." He sounded as ugly as he obviously thought Severus was.

"Don't these horrible people ever move away from this horrible place," wondered one of the voices, but things were turning worse.

"He's NOT ugly, you git, and it's Lily _Potter_ now," Lily snapped angrily at Jerome. "Oh, excellent, Lils, add possible adultery to the list of complaints here," groaned one of the voices. "Wouldn't you like to," purred another.

"I just need to get her home to her _husband_," snapped Severus, looking hard at her on the last word. Her eyes opened wide on that last word, and she whispered, "Oh!"

The other policeman grunted. "Let 'em go, Jerome. I don't feel like dealin' with your grammar school girl friends," and Jerome looked grumpy but he nodded. "Get on home with you then," he grunted.

Extracting them both from the booth under the watchful eye of the cops was not easy, but finally they were on their way. Severus was half carrying Lily, and she stumbled as much as walked anyway, when she wasn't giggling madly. He could feel eyes on him and knew the cops were still watching, so rather than turn down the alley, he walked her to the next corner, and turned.

The coast was clear on this street, and soon he found another alley, turned her down it - she was babbling something about Jerome and how much she had hated him in school and wasn't it funny that he was a cop now, how it suited such a smug, arrogant prig and wasn't he just a little like James now that she thought about it - and they Disapperated back to his flat. She would be easier to deal with there.

Only she wasn't. The trip churned her stomach so that when they got to his sitting room, she had sagged to the floor and retched.

Rolling his eyes, Severus scourgified the vomit away and summoned a glass and different potion from the kitchen area, one that would settle her stomach. The sobering potion would do no good if it all came right back up again. He shrugged off his coat and lay it over a chair, setting down his wand on the small table so he could pour the potion into the glass.

Crouching down, he spoke gently, as to a child. "Drink this, Lily."

"Help me to the couch," she'd said, sounding helpless now. He helped her up and nearly carried her one armed, the glass of stomach-settling potion in his other hand. When he set her down on the worn settee, she pulled him down with her. He was careful not to spill the glass, though the potion sloshed dangerously.

If sitting here, half slumped in her arms, was what she wanted of him, he was glad to comply. He's certainly been in less comfortable situations. He pushed the glass toward her face. "Can you drink this down now?" he asked.

"What is it," she asked, in that suspicious voice that committed drunks often used when they thought you wanted to sober them up.

"Just something to settle your stomach," he soothed, and she took it from him and sucked it down smoothly.

"Well, it's a testament to how drunk she was, that she didn't even stop for one second to remember that she is in a den of evil with a known Death Eater who has just handed her an unknown potion," opined the logical inner voice. "Maybe she's just forgotten not to trust you," laughed another. "That's annoying," grumbled another. "You're supposed to be mad and bad and dangerous to know, not some tame beast."

"Yuck," she spat. "Can't you make them taste better?"

"No. Potions are meant to taste bad."

This was not something they'd covered in school, probably because he'd just made it up.

"Why?" she asked

"It makes you think twice before needing one ever again."

Her face clouded. "Oh, huh. They all taste bad?"

"Yes. _All_ of them." he said. "That's not true," said an inner voice. "Well, _you_ never make anything that tastes good," laughed another. "But in your line of work, a nice flavour is not usually needed," opined a third. "Nor wanted," guffawed another.

The potion would take some time to work, and she seemed to have no interest in releasing him from his awkward position, so he settled in. She had bony knees, and one was poking him in the back. It took some squirming to get comfortable. He had some questions for her while they sat here.

"Lily, why were you in that pub? Why are you so drunk? Where is James, and why did you send for me?"

"I'm mad at James," said Lily sulkily. "He's still as much of a toe-rag as ever, sometimes. Not all the time...," and she went on for some time, about James and how sweet he could be, and his tendency to leave the milk without a chilling spell, and how much he wanted to be a father, and how he spent way too much time carousing with Sirius, and on and on, good and bad jumbled up, not making much sense. Severus could have done without the laundry list of James and his good and bad points. She made no mention of what, specifically, James had done this time, but she finally concluded with, "So I decided to see how _he_ likes it, and I remembered how we used to be friends and I wondered if you'd come if I asked you to, because _James_ never does!" All delivered with the perfect logic of the 3-sheets-to-the-wind. At least the slurring wasn't as bad now.

"She always knew you were a hero, too!" crowed one of the voices. "And of course, you came running like a dog when she crooked her little finger," snarled another voice.

Taking a deep breath, Severus tried not to give in to his instinct to pick up any threads of negativity about Lily's husband. Talking bad about a husband to his wife was dangerous ground, he imagined, even if you were half-sitting, half-lying on a couch in a tangle of arms and hair with the wife in question, even if you had been in love with the particular wife for almost your entire life. Maybe especially then. It took an iron will not to say anything negative.

He tried another question instead. "What _was_ that you sent anyway?"

"Oh, that! Cool, isn't it? Dumbles invented it, a new way to use our Patronusesese... uh, Patroni? Er, our Patronus charms. We use 'em to send messages about..." She suddenly stiffened. "Oh. _Shit_. "

"Don't worry about it," he soothed, not wanting to remind her, not wanting to be reminded, of where he stood in relation to Dumbledore and whatever they sent messages about. The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Severus and his ilk, in other words.

"This room is spinny," she muttered, eyes closing.

"Are you ready to sober up, then?" He tried to sit up a bit as he asked. He'd left his wand on the other side of the room, on the table, so he'd have to get up to get it or to retrieve the potion.

Instead, she tightened her grip. "No," she mumbled - he wasn't sure if it was an order to him to stay put, or if she meant she wasn't ready for sobriety yet. Both, apparently, because with surprising strength, she shoved him over and started to kiss him again. Her eyes, which had been drooping closed, were suddenly open wide, flashing at him, holding him in their gaze.

This time, Severus didn't fight it. She was clear about what she wanted, and who was he to argue? He always gave her what she wanted, even when it wasn't what he wanted. Not that he was going to wait outside her common room to try and change her mind about THIS.

"No no no," wailed one of the voices. "This is so very wrong," agreed another. "Oh, come on," snapped another, "this is what we've always wanted."

The kissing went on for several minutes. The voice which had been chanting, "No no no," had changed its tune to, "Oh oh oh," repeated over and over. Lily tugged him down on top of her, and he went willingly.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at him, more clearly than she had all night. "I need another drink," she proclaimed. Apparently, she was sobering up on her own, and it looked like she might be doubting what she was doing. "You have anything?"

"Decent scotch. Some cheap whiskey. A little rum." "And a sobering potion," mentioned an inner voice somewhat primly.

"Make me a scotch," Lily commanded.

"You're going to have to let me go," Severus noted.

"Oh, yeah," she giggled and released her grip on him.

Severus sat up, sat in the edge of the couch, and ran his hands over his face thoughtfully, before standing and walking to the small table on which the bottles of liquor sat.

He glanced back at her, and noticed that she'd shed her blouse and skirt, and was looking at him with a sly smile, no shyness at all.

Pink. Leave it to Lily to wear pink knickers to a seduction. Like bringing a broom to a wand duel, he chuckled to himself at the double entendre. Or... well, maybe not. On her, pink seemed the right level of sexiness. White would be too innocent, while red or black would have overwhelmed her. He paused, not knowing for sure if lingerie even came in other colours. He certainly didn't have much experience in these matters.

Yes, pink was right for Lily Evans.

"Not Lily Ev..." started a voice, but another one drowned it out with a bawled, "SHUT UP!"

He reached into his coat, lying on the back of the chair, and pulled out the potion. He picked up his wand. Setting the bottle down, he summoned a glass, and reached out to grab it...

Inside his head, the voices went to war.

"Sober her up," screamed the shrill voice. "Anything she does in this state doesn't count." "You love her," agreed another. "Sober would be better." "A sober decision is a wise choice," agreed the logical voice, though it seemed to be open to options.

All the voices paused, as the cool voice, the one he usually heeded, hissed its edict quietly, with the weight of a thousand stones.

He picked up the right bottle, and poured.

Turning to her, and stepping across the small room, he smiled as he handed the glass to her. She upended it, never taking her eyes - those eyes he knew that he would die for - from his.

"Delicious," she purred, and pulled him down next to her, and all the voices in his head shut up.


End file.
